


Going Home

by Breanna_B



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s07e01 Truth or Consequences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:11:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breanna_B/pseuds/Breanna_B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene: what happened after all the action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

Hot, sweaty, dusty. The sun glared down at him, lower in the sky now than when he had lay on the knoll, hidden from the men going about their business in the complex below. Hidden as he looked through the scope on the sniper rfile, adjusting angle and trajectory.

Tim was driving the open jeep they had managed to grab as they ran from the hornets nest that had been stirred up by that one crack shot. He had gotten them away as quickly as possible along the boulder strewn dirt track, but now Gibbs could see his concentration failing. After another close call with a rock at the side of the road McGee brought the vehicle to a stop and thumped both hands against the steering wheel, before hanging his head, shoulders stooped, the image of an exhausted man.

“Sorry boss” his voice was cracked. From his position in the back of the truck Gibbs could see him swallow and lick his lips, preparing to say more, to explain what he saw as his failure.

“Okay McGee, I'll drive”.

Gibbs looked down at Ziva, lying in the back of the truck with him, curled in a fetal position with just her head laying on his lap. He didn't want to disturb her but knew McGee's reserves were all used up.

“Ziva” he spoke to her gently, not sure if she was asleep. “Ziva” her eyelids flickered, “I have to move. Tim is going to sit in the back with you”.

She rolled upright and scurried into a sitting position, back against the side of the truck, hugging her knees. Gibbs looked at her face, wanting to ask if she was okay with that. But he knew she wasn't okay, it would be a silly question to ask.

They held position for a while. How long? A few minutes, seconds. She raised her eyes and looked at his face, saw the question in his eyes. The time they had spent working together had taught them all how to read Gibbs' expressions. She returned his compassionate stare with a single nod of her head.

“Go. Drive” she tipped her head indicating the driver's seat. As he settled in behind the wheel he heard McGee climb into the back of the truck. Noting Ziva's body language Tim  sat down gently next to her – companionably close, but not touching, as though to say _I am here for you, but on your terms_.

Gibbs glanced over at the figure in the front passenger seat as he turned to concentrate on driving. DiNozzo slumped in the seat, head tipped back, eyes closed. His face was turned towards Gibbs and he could see the pain in the younger man's face. Gibbs doubted that he was asleep, an idea confirmed when Tony opened his eyes and glanced around.

Gibbs looked at him and saw the question in his look. “Just a change of driver” Gibbs turned his concentration back on negotiating the dirt road they were on, “rest now, we're going home”.

 

Once their flight was in the air, Gibbs headed to the rest room and used the washcloth the flight attendant provided to wash off the worst of the dust, sweat and camouflage he'd acquired in the desert. Feeling more human, he turned back and looked over his team. He was proud of them, of DiNozzo and McGee for carrying out their part of the plan and hanging in there, of Ziva for being alive, for letting them bring her home. He'd seen how much her absence had affected Tony, had affected all of them, but now they could rest, they had achieved their goal, and more – Ziva sitting in the seat across the aisle from DiNozzo proof of that. Though Tony was far from relaxed, his sleep of exhaustion obviously unsettled as he sighed and stirred in his sleep.

McGee passed Gibbs on his way to wash in the restroom. Gibbs stayed standing in the cabin space just outside, he didn't want to leave any of his team alone until he was sure they'd be okay.

He had known that McGee and DiNozzo wouldn't let him down on the mission, but that didn't stop the churning in his gut which forced him to acknowledge that he was worried for them – not for the mission, but them – their safety. Hell, they knew it wasn't safe, that was the whole point of the plan, but he was relieved when he saw the three of them staggering out of the main building, arm in arm, supporting each other. He had rushed to get down there in time, to find them and get them out, to see for himself how they were. And they stood there, Ziva between them, and for a moment it felt as though his whole body shuddered with relief and joy. Then his marine training kicked in, submerging feeling, allowing tactical thought to be in control as he got them to a nearby truck, taking Ziva from Tim's arms and shouting at him to drive as he climbed in the back with his lost girl, now found.

He was standing watching the reclining forms in the airplane seats, his back to the restroom when he heard Tim come back out. He heard a muffled sob and a light thump and turned to see Tim leaning against the closed door, slowly sliding down into a crumpled heap on the floor. His body was heaving with silent wracking sobs as Gibbs reached him and crouched down next to him.

Gibbs gently spoke his name and held him by the shoulders as the tension and pain of the last few days escaped. “Its okay Tim, we're all safe now”. The sobs that had convulsed his whole body eased and stopped. Tim looked up at Gibbs who could see the anguish in his face, tears freely flowing down his cheeks.

“I know, I know. Its just . . .” Tim just gave a vague gesture with his hand, the man of words at a loss for what to say.

Gibbs recognised the release that comes after pain and fear and exhaustion, once the adrenaline wears off and you realise you are still alive. He leaned in and gave Tim a quick embrace, letting go when he heard Tim's pained inhalation of breath.

“I understand. We, _you've_ been through a lot.” Gibbs looked enquiringly at the man in front of him, “cracked ribs?”. Tim grimaced “yeah, right side. Got booted quite a few times once they dropped me”.

“Any other injuries?” Gibbs held Tim's head, examined the abrasions and checked his eyes. Further down on his neck and shoulder, where Tim's shirt was torn, he found the burn marks.

“Cigarettes” a question, a statement. Tim nodded, not trusting his voice, remembering the pain. He lifted his right hand which Gibbs could see was red and swollen. “Not sure if this is damaged, one of them stomped on it pretty hard.”

Gibbs took his hand and examined it, “lucky you're left handed”, he worked over each joint and finger. “doesn't look like anything's broken”.

“Thanks boss”.

Gibbs helped McGee to his feet and held his arm as he staggered to the nearest seat. After Tim had sat down Gibbs' hand stayed on his shoulder for a few seconds longer. Tim looked up into his boss's face.

“Good job McGee”.

Tim smiled, yeah good job, target eliminated, all of them out of there safely. And Ziva, bringing her home.

 

Gibbs moved forward to Ziva's seat and handed her a clean washcloth. “Do you want to go and get cleaned up?” he asked her, nodding towards the restroom, “you might feel a bit more human afterwards”. A slight smile briefly appeared on her lips, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.

“That would be nice”. She stood and made her way aft.

Gibbs turned to watch as she went, and saw that DiNozzo was awake. His chair was still reclined and he looked awful, so Gibbs knelt down in the aisle to talk with him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” an echo of the DiNozzo smile flashed at him breifly “well, no. I mean, I've been better, but then you could say that about a lot of times when we've had a tricky case come up, or when I've been concussed, or blown up, or shot at . . .”

He tailed off as Gibbs spread his hands in a placating manner.

“Sorry boss, babbling. Shutting up now.”

“Tony, don't worry,” Gibbs interjected, “I shouldn't have asked until . . .”

“Until that truth serum has worked its way out of my bloodstream.” Tony ran his hand over his face and ended ruffling his hair. “Its getting there, not as bad as it was. This is pretty trippy, ya know. A bit like being drunk, but not. I'm not sure if I'm coming or going, or what's really real.” He looked over at Gibbs. “did you really get that shot, all the way from that rock you were on?” Gibbs silently nodded. “I mean, from that distance, if you were just a fraction off, that bullet could have gone anywhere, I was sitting right next to the SOB.” Gibbs could see the rising panic in DiNozzo's face, the realisation that it had been so close. He rested his hand on Tony's shoulder, knowing that touch would emphasise his point.

“Do you trust me Tony?”

“Yeah, sure boss”

“And you _did_ trust me. I trusted that you would keep yourself and McGee alive, and you trusted me to do my part.” He stopped and waited for Tony to nod in reply.

“What matters now is that we're all alive, we're here, together.”

“And Ziva, we've got Ziva. I mean, I can't believe it, she was still . . . there. And now she's here.” Tony's voice faltered, and Gibbs nodded gently, letting Tony know he was aware he was babbling again. Tony loked over to where Ziva had been sitting and looked confused when he saw she was gone.

“Ziva?” He looked back at Gibbs, “where . . ?”

“Freshening up.” Gibbs looked back towards the restroom. “It's okay, that part's real, she's here with us.”

 

They had all managed to get some rest, and cleaned up somewhat on the flight back to DC, so although they all needed to get home for some serious recuperation, Gibbs took them back to the Navy Yard knowing there were other people there who needed to see them alive and well.

Gibbs had noticed that since he and Tim had switched places in the truck getting them the hell out of there, Ziva had held herself aloof from the rest of the team. In fact, she had pretty much kept herself away from everybody, shying away from the gentle touch of the aircraft crew ushering them to their seats, and refusing help to check her lapstrap was fastened.He had a pretty good idea of why she didn't want any human contact at the moment, even from the other members of her team, perhaps especially from the other _male_ members of her team. After all, she had been a female prisoner in a camp of male guards. She seemed to hold it together in the ride from the airport to the Navy Yard, but Gibbs got more worried when they reached the elevator to go up to the squad room.

The doors pinged, and Tim held his hand against the open door and gallantly gestured in a ladies first kind of a way for Ziva to enter the little silver clad box. She stalled, like a horse refusing to jump a fence, a small subtle jerk to raise her chin. Gibbs was behind her and could imagine the startled look in her eyes. But only a fraction of a second passed before she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and entered the elevator. The other three members of the team stepped in gently, quietly, and in unspoken agreement stood separately and rode up to the squadroom.

Gibbs took point, leaned out through the open doors to check it was all clear, still pondering what to do as Ziva cautiously exited the elevator. Abby saved the day. Only Abby could have got away with that hug, a full embrace that said 'welcome home', and 'we've missed you', and 'you'll be okay now you're with us'.

And then people were surrounding them, offering congratulations, a literal clap on the back, well done, good work. Gibbs found himself, McGee and DiNozzo in the centre between their desks as the applause died down. He spun around, looking for the last member of their team, and saw Abby and Ziva heading towards the stairs, no doubt going down to the relative quiet of Abby's lab.

Gibbs was alone as he rode back down in the elevator a short time later, getting off at Abby's lab. Abby and Ziva were sitting close together on stools infront of Abby's computers. Ziva had her back to the door, and lifted her head but didn't turn around when Abby looked towards the door at the sound of the ping from the elevator. Gibbs watched as Abby looked back at her friend, and Ziva slowly turned her head to face him, still keeping her back to him, hunched and dejected. She had been crying, he could see the puffiness in her eyes, and heard the sniffle that escaped her iron control. He approached slowly, giving her time to react, to let him know if it was too much. As he reached her, she turned on her stool, and he reached out and hugged her, the tears she had been fighting to keep back unleashed freely now.

“Ziva”, he said her name softly and he just gently held her, “we're all glad you're back. You're home now.”


End file.
